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The Star at 120: From Knee-Hi to ponies, readers share their stories

As the Toronto Star turns 120 years old, we invited readers to tell their own Star stories.

"Children shouldn't play in daddy's car," says Knee-Hi, the Star's mascot for a safety campaign in 1949. The wire-haired terrier visited Toronto schools to demonstrate traffic safety rules and was a bit hit for thousands of children. Reader Nancy Bates is still looking for a keepsake from that campaign. (Toronto Star file photo)

By Thestar.com

Fri., Nov. 2, 2012

I've been loyal to the Toronto Star ever since I learned how to read. I have two fondish memories for you.

1. Where’s my scrapbook?

In 1949, I earned fourth place in the Knee-Hi the Safety Dog Scrapbook contest. I still have the yellowed newspaper clipping with my name in it. I received a lovely letter (which I still have) from the Star Safety programme director stating that, unfortunately, they only had one puppy to give away. He said that my scrapbook was “so good” that they were going to “borrow it for awhile to show, with pride, to some very important people.” It’s now 63 years later. Where's my scrapbook?

2. Around 1955 (?) I was one of 900 Star newspaper carriers who went for a fun afternoon on the excursion steamer Lady Hamilton from Toronto to Port Dalhousie. Among the events were foot races. (I have the yellowed newspaper clipping with my name in it.) I probably came in second. First prize was a box camera which is probably toast by now, but my prize was a lovely red zippered photo album which I still have and use to this day.

I still love the Star.

Article Continued Below

Nancy (Aston) Bates, Toronto

As a little girl, I remember the big fat Saturday Star in the 80s waiting on the front porch. I would read the comics and my mom would look through the flyers before we went grocery shopping together. Getting the TV Guide in the Saturday Star and looking for my favourite shows was another early introduction to reading and research techniques. It was a much anticipated Saturday morning routine with my mom that I cherished.

Eleni Papakonstantinou, Toronto

The Toronto Star was always in my life — as a child, my father always brought home the newspaper and I would look at the sections I could read or understand. There was an Easter colouring context when I was about 12 years old and I won honourable mention and got a prize of one dollar!! It was a real thrill. The headline that still stands out for me was when Marilyn Bell swam Lake Ontario. I think the headline was above the paper’s title. It was in the biggest size font I had ever seen headlines in.

Gail Puder

This story really started with my brother who was a paper boy!! I am talking the mid-60s.

I would go out with him every day on the Toronto Star route no matter what the weather was like. It was a very long route in the west end of Toronto and the bags were heavy, I was 10 and he was 11. When I think back I am amazed at how well we managed!! Customers were great!

The collection fees were collected on Fridays so after delivery we would start again with collecting the money and giving those that paid their stub. Being so young and responsible was the best learning experience for us. It taught us many worthwhile life skills along the way and we made some money and friends. That paper route would stay in my family for many years with most of my siblings at one time or another becoming the Paper Boy. That was what people called us until they got a good look and realized we were girls!

Marie Campbell

It was the Sunday, Nov. 29, 1998/page A7 issue that started a chain of events. George Gamester wrote a column on my mother being my motivator to become a writer at the age of 60. The article featured a photo of myself and my mother.

My wife, Marilyn, had gone to the States to spend American Thanksgiving with my daughter and her family. I couldn’t get away because of business commitments – I owned a printing company.

The day the article appeared, my office phone rang and a woman’s voice asked: “Is your name Alvin Abramovitz?” I had changed my name to Abram in 1966.

I glibly answered, “If you know me as Abramovitz, you’re going back quite far. Who is this?”

“I’m your wife,” the woman answered.

I figured I had a crank on the phone. “I’m married 38 years to a woman and it’s not you,” I answered.

“Do you have a fax machine? I can prove my claim. I married you before you married the other woman. But don’t hang up.”

I pondered what to do. I gave her my fax number and a few minutes later two sheets of paper ejected. I looked at the sheets and had to smile. I returned to the phone and said, “Hi dear. It’s been a long time.”

When I hung up I called my wife in the States. I asked her to sit down I had some difficult news to tell her. I said, “I am the bearer of bad news. I never told you but I was married before and my previous wife has found me.”

Silence.

“It would appear that when I was 12, my Charles G. Fraser public school class married Bette and I. You are my second wife.

Not wishing to belabour the story, I offer this addendum.

About a month later, Marilyn was again in the States, babysitting while the rest of the family went away on a school winter break. I was alone at home. The phone rang. “Where are you, Mr. Abram? You are the guest speaker. There are almost 150 people here waiting.”

“I thought that was next week,” I said. “Give me 15 minutes, I’ll be there.” I hadn’t shaved in days. My clothes were scruffy from working in them. I was not too far from the location and I scooped up my material and drove quickly to the location of the meeting. I climbed the stairs to the second floor to be met a short woman, about five feet tall. I’m 6-foot-3. Puffing like a steam engine, I staggered to her.

With her hands on her hips, she looked up at me in disapproval. “You’re late again,” she said. “My name is Bette. You were late for our class and almost missed our wedding.”

Alvin Abram, Toronto

My memory is bad for dates, so I can't give you the times that these events happened, only they had to occur during the early 1950s.

At that time after school I sold the Star for the vendor with a news booth at the north east corner of Carlton and Yonge. I mainly was sent to the back entrance of the Eatons College St. store during rush hour with the Star to sell. I did quite well, too!

After school I delivered papers with a wagon quite full of the Star and Tely to homes and apartments from Wood Street (where I lived) and Bay, Wellesley and Jarvis streets.

One day I was trying to collect monies I had not got from this garage (a lane behind a building on Jarvis street), which was a newer account. Well the guy opened the large garage door I said “I need payment for the paper.” He reaches in his pocket gives me a “twenty” (lot of money for a kid), tells me to keep the change and closed the door.

A a couple days later I realized that this was “Jackson” part of the famous Boyd Gang. I think the paper was cancelled after that.

I think it happened, but as a kid I may have exaggerated. I still think about it off and on. Maybe it wasn't Jackson. But I remember the tip. That's hard to forget.

John Fretwel, Seguin Township

In the mid ‘70s, when I was 10 or so I took a Toronto Star route in Brantford. I was a little kid, and the papers weighed so much on Saturdays that sometimes I could only leave the house with 8 or 10, then I had to make several trips out to get my route done. My dad was a saint and often drove me around the neighborhood to get my route done. I delivered papers to Howard Jarvis, brother of NHLer Doug. One winter when we had a trip to Montreal planned my dad called up Howard, who in turn gave us Doug’s number in Montreal. My family ended up at a Montreal Canadiens practice where I met my hero, Guy Lafleur. I still have his autographed hockey stick, and count this as a highlight of my life – all because of the Toronto Star! Thanks.

Paul Thibideau, Toronto

In the year 2000 there was a call for people to apply to the first Community Editorial Board of the Star. The article said that the Star was looking for persons form diverse backgrounds. As a gay Latino man I thought I had something to contribute, so I applied. I told my mom I had applied and that I had said I was gay and Latino. She said that perhaps I should had omitted mentioning that I was a gay man.

She cited her acute awareness of the discrimination experienced by LGBTQ people and their families in society. She felt that perhaps having mentioned my sexual orientation would hinder my chances. She knew I was proud of who I was (am), but was also right about her impressions. But I said to her that I believed that this was a progressive newspaper intent of giving voice to people who otherwise would not be able to be heard.

A few weeks later I got the news that I had been selected as part of that first Community Editorial Board. I was very happy and excited. I had been correct all long about my impressions about how progressive the Star was. My mother was overjoyed for me and also because my acceptance to the Board meant that not only at the Star, but also in Canada there was a place where her son a gay Latino man and in general LGBTQ people, could be themselves and respected and could make contributions to their society.

Rico Rodriguez, Toronto

During the Depression years of the 30's, it was my job to go for our copy of the Star, which at the time was 1 cent per copy.

Unfortunately, I had to return home for more money, as the price of the Star had risen all the way up to 2 cents a copy.

As you can probably realize, I have been a Star reader for many many years and still look forward to home delivery every day.

Grace Cramer, Toronto

My memories of the Star may seem a bit unusual to most people. As a boy I shared a paper route with a great friend. We lived in the Ontario Housing project of Blake Street. Blake Street Housing Development lay between Jones and Pape Avenues and just south of the Danforth. It is subsidized housing and comes with all the associated social problems. Blake Street was a particularly tough neighbourhood in which to grow up then, and I would assume now, too. The senior partner of our little enterprise was a tall good looking kid named Gary.

He was a tough kid. I, on the other hand, was a particularly small kid when compared to my friend, but similarly tough. Gary and I became good friends through football and he asked me if I would be interested in joining him as a paper boy, delivering the paper throughout the housing development. I agreed. What I learned from that experience has left me in very good stead since. From that experience I learned responsibility, the importance of hard work, and I also learned determination.

Every Thursday Gary and I would collect the money owed us by our customers. Some would pay, while others would only promise to pay. Some of the more troublesome kids in the community learned of our small business venture and decided that we would be easy prey for them. So every Thursday we would collect our pay, while Gary took the brunt of the abuse. We never surrendered our money to these bullies. While Gary got beaten up petty badly sometimes, he gave as good as he got.

Years later I reflect on what I learned from that experience. It was worth a million dollars, but I wouldn't pay a dime to do it again, unless it was in a different neighbourhood. Thanks Gary, and thanks to the Toronto Star newspaper.

Terrie “The Wags” Wagner

Having been born in 1939 , the Star has been a very important part of my entire life.

Before I could actually read on my own, the Star introduced me to the “funnies” and each day I looked forward , eagerly , to see whatever Little Orphan Annie, Jiggs and Maggie, Andy Capp , Daisy May/Mae and all my other favourites were up to.

Initially I was convinced that Annie was a real girl and to this day, whenever I see an Airdale dog, I think of her dog Sandy.

Along with the daily 6 p.m. news on CFRB, read by Jim Hunter (after musical intro ) my Dad would try to make time to read the words that I needed to make sense of the Star of the day.

Living in a home where I originally only had access to two books (still in my possession) the Star was my window on a world where the biggest local event each year was the Santa Claus parade and walking to school meant walking a mile and a quarter each way.

The Star Weekly was absolutely amazing! Sundays were wonderful. A weekly treasure! Real stories to read and pictures!

Once my parents had finished reading it, the Star Weekly was mine to enjoy on Sunday afternoons.

I had to hurry and finish it on Sunday, however, because by Monday it was gone. Likely always burned so that I would stop “wasting time” and assist with the Monday laundry chores.

Now, of course, I read the Star online whenever I have time (and never do laundry on Mondays)

Anne (Heslop) Simmons, Victoria B.C.

I do remember my mother allowing us to cuddle with her in her bed as she read us detailed reports in the Toronto Daily Star of the war in Europe. I was about four and my brother was two. The year was 1942. The Germans had over-run much of Europe and the future was extremely bleak.

In my little head, the biggest worry was that the Germans would bring the war to our home on Harriet St. in Toronto. Mom assured us that Dad and my uncles and all the Canadian soldiers would never let that happen. That’s why he wasn’t at home with us. For a long time I recall the Star newspaper spread out on Mom’s bed with the whole front page covered with graphic illustrations and bold headlines keeping us informed while she repeated and explained the events pictured.

Through the stories of war correspondents I somehow felt Dad and the rest of the allied servicemen were telling us the news of the day. Mom gave me naïve comfort to know the horror stories in the newspaper would not invade our safe home in Canada. Thank you for helping me to survive the Second World War”.

Jerry Wells, Toronto

My earliest memory of the Toronto Star probably predates many of the ones you are going to receive.

On Dec. 21, 1925, I received an early Christmas present that my parents hid from me until Christmas morning — I was 11 years old.

I had an opportunity to write to your paper regarding my Christmas experience in the country, as part of the Daily Star's Christmas Contest. I won third prize for the letter that I wrote about my Christmas — which included a visit from my extended family and dancing in our kitchen.

I have been reading the Toronto Star daily since and have been one of your faithful subscribers for many years.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell you about one of my memories —

Patricia Erwin, Alton, Ont.

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